


Perspective

by achilleshoney



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Hogwarts, Alternative Perspective, Background characters - Freeform, Draco's perspective, Gay, Hogwarts First Year, Hogwarts Second Year, Hogwarts Third Year
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-26
Updated: 2018-07-18
Packaged: 2019-05-28 21:01:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15057713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/achilleshoney/pseuds/achilleshoney
Summary: Draco Malfoy is just another student who has a "crush" on the well-known Harry Potter. Each year gets a little harder, each year gets a little riskier, and yet, here we are.





	1. Chapter One

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own/am a part of the Harry Potter series. Rights reserved to J.K. Rowling.
> 
> This is all from Draco's perspective. I am basically rewriting every Draco + Harry scenes and a few extra ones. (Also ALL of this is inspired by that one Tumblr post where Draco kisses Harry and breaks his nose in HBP, 'kay, enjoy!)

It felt like you threw me,

So far from myself,

I've been trying to,

Find my way back,

Ever since.

\- Rupi Kaur

 

"Come on love, we have unwanted time," said the long-haired woman tugging the young boy along. The boy followed his mother kindly, knowing that it was better to obey than to argue. 

Draco and Narcissa Malfoy were walking through St. Pancras Station, awaiting the train. Draco Malfoy had just gotten his Hogwarts letter, the only thing that mattered to him and his parents. His father, Lucius Malfoy, had thrown him a banquet "fit for an aspiring student". It was to take place at Parkinsons Estate and there was to be a great gathering and palatial dinner. Although he didn't want anything to do with his father or the banquet, his mother insisted and he couldn't wait to see his irreplaceable (and rather pretty) friend Pansy. She had gotten her letter a week before him and already had her wand....

"Mother," the blonde-almost-white haired boy said tentatively, "When am I going to get all my school things?" Usually, the tradition was to go to Diagon Alley.

Ah! No need, Draco," Narcissa said while avoiding muggles. "Lucius has already bought your things. All except your robes and wand, of course." Draco let go of his mother’s hand and stopped, his forehead wrinkling in disappointment. His mother stopped, turned around, and looked down at him with her piercing eyes. “Don’t worry, all your books are modern. It is not in our family to have customary and standard paraphernalia." She straightened and looked around. Draco watched as her head whipped from side to side. Narcissa sniffed like everything was useless and insulting.

"Well deary, you go sit over on that muggle bench and hold my coat--" she laid the heavy, black coat in Draco's arms "--and I'll go see when the next train comes." She walked away, but not before Draco heard "Muggles...as if we didn't have places to be!"

Draco didn't mind muggles. Not that they did anything to him. But he was raised to know that he was better than any of them. His dad always went on long-winded rants about family ancestry and blood-binding DNA. Lucius had made him read many old, crinkled page books filled with numerous dates and names. 

Draco inhaled and sat at the nearest bench, holding his mothers coat carefully. He eyed several different humans all having an air of carelessness and uninspiring labor. One grey-haired man waiting for the train checked his watch every so often. One lady rifled through her backpack looking, for the longest time, a long piece of plastic and piece of parchment. Draco had just begin to watch a young man spill his coffee when his bench shook and a very nasty voice sounded.

"You wait here boy.... And don't move."

Draco glanced over at the disappearing footsteps which seemed to come from a portly man. He looked all the way to his left and watched the overly large man walk away to a smaller duplicate of himself. He sniffed just like his mother. Draco then realised that there was something (well, someone) sitting next to him. He glanced towards the someone and looked him up and down slyly.

An appealing, dark-skinned boy with round glasses and intense green eyes was sitting next to him watching the young man who had spilled coffee apologise profusely to a teenager who was unfortunately in his way. The boy blinked, looked at Draco, and then flushed pink. He scooted away from the intrigued boy and muttered an apology.

"Don't apologize," Draco muttered back. He looked around for his mother before speaking to the boy again (he had never spoken to a muggle before). "Did that man yell at you?" The boy looked up at him timidly, at the rather plump man, now slapping the duplicate of him on the back, and then back at Draco.

"Only because I asked a question," the charmingly attractive young boy said quietly. Draco's forehead wrinkled.

_ Because he asked a question? _

Draco opened his mouth to respond to the other boy, but shut it tight as the portly man came back over. The man grabbed the boy by the arm and dragged him along to the "identical him". The young boy didn't look back.

Draco looked down and flushed pink as a growing fondness grew inside him.

 

~ ~ ~

 

Draco walked into Madam Malkin’s Robes for All Occasions with his mother. A bell at the top of the door dinged and he felt a satisfying calm wash over him. Finally, something he got to do. He looked around to one side at racks full of dark blue and green, velvet robes. He turned his head the other way and saw a desk piled high with parchment, flexible rulers, and sewing equipment.

“Okay Draco, I’m going to go find your father. He’ll be bargaining somewhere in Knockturn Alley,” Narcissa said, “Stay here and get your robes till I come back.” She patted underneath the boys chin and left within seconds. He sighed and turned around as a lady he assumed to be Madam Malkin walked into view. Madam Malkin gestured him over to a short stool and threw a pair of robes over his head.

“Hogwarts, I’m assuming, dear?” she asked. He nodded and an offhand smile took over his face. Just then, the jingle of the doorbell rang and Madam Malkin ran off, leaving her ruler to measure his arms all by itself. A second witch ambled over and started pinning his robes up at the bottom hem. He turned his head round and saw the same dark-skinned boy who he saw at the station walking towards him with Madam Malkin conjuring another pliable ruler. His stomach gave a funny lurch and he breathed in and out heavily.

_ So he was a wizard. _

As Madam Malkin slipped a long robe over the boy’s head Draco spoke: “Hello,” he said clearly, “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” said the boy fixing his glasses. 

Draco made something up on the spot to try and impress him. “My father’s next door buying my books and mother’s up the street looking at wands,” he paused and created an even more superb spiel. “Then I’m going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don’t see why first years can’t have their own. I think I’ll bully father into getting me one and I’ll smuggle it in somehow.” He finished in a convincing finality.

The boy didn’t look impressed, but resentful. He nodded in politeness, regardless. Draco tried to steer the conversation his way.

“Have  _ you _ got your own broom?” he asked.

“No,” the green-eyed boy replied.

“Play Quidditch at all?” he asked.

“No,” the boy said once again. Draco glanced over at him. The boys eyes stared at the rulers, the mirror in front of them, Madam Malkin’s wand, anywhere but Draco himself.

“ _ I _ do,” he said carrying on, “Father says it’s a crime if I’m not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you’ll be in?”

“No,” the boy said his cheeks going pink.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I’ll be in Slytherin, all our family have been -- imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I’d leave, wouldn’t you?”

The boy shrugged and made a mmm noise. He didn’t seem very excited. Draco’s eyebrows furrowed has he turned his head all the way to look at him. He paused and then a motion in his peripheral vision caught his attention.

“I say, look at that man!”

“That’s Hagrid. He works at Hogwarts,” the boy said contentedly.

“Oh, I’ve heard of him. He’s a sort of servant, isn’t he?”

“He’s the gamekeeper.”

“Yes, exactly,” Draco exclaimed turning back to the dark-skinned boy. He was glad he finally got to discuss something other than the proper way to say No. “I heard he’s sort of  _ savage  _ \-- lives in a hut on the school grounds and every now and then he gets drunk, tries to do magic, and ends up setting fire to his bed.”

“I think he’s brilliant,” the boy replied coldly.

“Do you?” Draco said with a slight laugh forgetting the impressive-subtle-chat he was aiming for. “Why is he with you? Where are your parents?”

“They’re dead,” he answered curtly. Draco turned to the front abruptly.

_ Oh, dead. _

“Oh, sorry,” he countered in a would-be-casual sort of voice. “But they were  _ our _ kind, weren’t they?”

“They were a witch and wizard, if that’s what you mean.”

“I don’t really think they should let the other sort in, do you?” Draco asked, directing the subject away from the attractive boy’s dead parents. “They’re just not the same, they’ve never been brought up to know our ways. Some of them have never even heard of Hogwarts until they get the letter, imagine. I think they should keep it in the old wizarding families. What’s your surname, anyway?”

The boy opened his mouth to answer, but Madam Malkin told him he was done and packaged his new, clean robes. Draco felt a sense of panic and said suddenly “Well, I’ll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose.”

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Did he say anything?” Pansy asked as she opened her bedroom window that led to the roof.

“He just said no a lot and nodded,” Draco replied. 

His banquet was earlier that day and Pansy invited him to stay the night. Everyone who was invited (mostly his dads co-workers) had already left, with a pat on the back and a “good luck.” Draco hadn’t enjoyed himself anyway, the sense of panic kept returning in his chest throughout dinner. By the time Mrs. Parkinson told him and Pansy to go upstairs he cracked and revealed his feelings. Pansy didn’t laugh due to their many years of friendship.

Pansy crawled through the window and Draco watched her legs disappear into the starry night. He quickly followed and sat next to her on the roof. The black-haired girl fixed her black dress and sighed.

“Maybe he thought you were being cocky,” she said after a moment. Draco looked ahead of him at the estate. Smoke and steam from chimneys in the distant village were billowing up and clouding the blinking stars. He considered what he said to the appealing boy for a while, but got pulled back to reality when Pansy spoke:

“You know, you’re only eleven. And he could be a Gryffindor. Ambitious and caring and what-not.” Draco looked at her, suddenly tired. She was right, he could be a total Gryffindor-y bigot with no sense of adaptation and attentiveness. “I guess we’ll find out soon,” she sighed.


	2. Chapter Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own/am a part of the Harry Potter series. Rights reserved to J.K. Rowling.
> 
> Hello, sorry it has been so long! I realize there are a lot of other parts that go with all of these Draco + Harry scenes, but its going to work out, I swear.

Perhaps the saddest of all,

Are those who live waiting for someone,

They're not even sure exists.

\- Rupi Kaur

 

Draco stepped onto the Hogwarts Express and immediately dragged his trunk to the last compartment. His heart was beating abnormally fast; every student seemed to be looking at him. When he reached the compartment at last and opened the sliding door, Pansy stood up (along with Gregory Goyle and Vincent Crabbe) and greeted him.

“What took you so long?” she asked brushing her black bangs out of her face.

“My father wouldn’t stop lecturing me about history dates. Says it’s very important to pay attention,” Draco answered shoving his trunk under a seat. He turned around and grinned at his fellow classmates. They grinned back. Each one of them have always been waiting for this moment; when they can finally experience the joy and agony of the real wizarding world.

“Have you seen you-know-who?” Pansy asked as she sat down across from Draco. Draco raised his eyebrows, confused. Crabbe and Goyle looked at each other confused as well. Pansy rolled her eyes. “Harry Potter!”

Oh! He’s here?!” Draco said in awe. He had always read everything he could on The Boy Who Lived. Papers, ancestry data, books, and books. Draco grew up knowing the name; he was Draco’s role model and he wanted to meet him, of course. Harry Potter was never seen, but was always mentioned. “Will be a courageous young man!” Draco had overheard one day. Pansy regularly told him that whatever emotions he was feeling usually were defined as a “crush.” He held back his smile and tried to convince himself that it wasn’t a crush. For all he knew, he could be a Squib. Or a Gryffindor.

“Yes, he’s here. Where’ve you been?” Pansy said. She started talking about her parents rambles on whether or not Harry Potter will actually show up as the train gave a lurch and started pulling out of the station. Draco looked out the window and sighed.; brief flashes of fields and hills streaked by.

 

~ ~ ~

 

“Would you like to go find him?” Pansy said after a couple hours of Draco tapping his fingers restlessly and worrying over every little thing that could go wrong.

Draco looked up and decided recklessly on the spot that he would like to go find him. He said, “Yes, honestly. Come on Crabbe, Goyle.” Draco stood up and opened the compartment door. He scanned the corridor for any clue of The Boy Who Lived.

“I think I saw someone with a scar on his face a few sections down,” Goyle uttered plainly. Draco sighed quietly, _Could’ve been anyone._ He moved forward till Goyle thrusted open a random compartment door. Draco stopped and his stomach gave an almighty lurch.

It was that green-eyed, dark-skinned boy. And he had a scar.

_Oh my God._

Draco summoned what little courage he had, beckoned the two burly boys, and walked in casually. “Is it true? They’re saying all down the train that Harry Potter’s in this compartment. So it’s you, is it?”

“Yes,” the boy who claimed to be Harry Potter said. He was sitting with a tall, red-haired boy who had many freckles. Harry was looking from Crabbe to Goyle and back.

“Oh, this is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my names Malfoy, Draco Malfoy.” The tall boy gave a slight cough that sounded like an offensive snort. Draco furrowed his eyebrows and looked at him. “Think my names funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford.”

Draco instantly regretted what he had said, but didn’t do anything about it. He looked back at Harry. He started to speak with an air of vanity in his voice. “You’ll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others. You don’t want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there.” Draco held out his hand, desperation and naiveness rising in him. Harry didn’t take it.

“I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks,” he said smoothly. Draco’s stomach dropped and he could feel his face getting hot. He lowered his hand and opened his mouth.

“I’d be careful if I were you, Potter,” he said slowly and strainedly, hurt if anything else. “Unless you’re a bit politer you’ll go the same way as your parents. They didn’t know what was good for them, either. You hang around with inconvenient people like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, it’ll rub off on you.”

Both boys stood up and took a step forward.

“Say it again!” the Weasley boy claimed turning bright red.

“Oh, you’re going to fight us, are you?” Draco said with a hopefully convincing sneer.

“Unless you get out now,” said Harry bravely. He was only a foot away from Draco. Draco held his ground, still reddened.

“But we don’t feel like leaving, do we? We’ve eaten all our food and you still seem to have some.” Goyle reached for one of their treats as the Weasley reached out. But before anything happened, Goyle let out a loud yell. Draco backed away, unsettled by the sudden turn of events. A giant rat was hanging off of Goyle’s hand. As the thickset boy flung the rat off, Draco pulled him and Crabbe out of the compartment and started towards their own.

His eyes watered as he sat down across from Pansy again.

“So, what happened?” she urged.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (I don't know how to contact you @ Sophie in my comments !!)

**Author's Note:**

> Heads up, I am sorry if I take forever to update! And all the tags and everything, they'll come. AND I am using a lot of sentences from the book(s), but also changing a few ?? I don't know, just felt the need to share!


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